


steal (verb): to take without permission and not return

by lutes_and_dandelions



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, F/M, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff, Heavy on the Geraskier, Heist Story, Light Angst, M/M, Multi, Ocean's Eleven AU, POV Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, POV Jaskier | Dandelion, There is softness for all of the tagged relationships though, hopefully, you don't need to have seen Ocean's Eleven though to read and understand this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:15:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23744398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lutes_and_dandelions/pseuds/lutes_and_dandelions
Summary: Jaskier is released from prison with a plan to steal a hundred and sixty million dollars and maybe also his wife if he's really lucky.-oOo-Ocean's Eleven AU, it's what it says on the tin really.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 31
Kudos: 133





	steal (verb): to take without permission and not return

Jaskier stepped outside, finally a free man for the first time in five years, provided he didn’t do anything foolish like break parole of course. It was a warm June afternoon and Jaskier relished the feeling of the Massachusetts sun on his face. He particularly enjoyed being outside and not being surrounded by mesh fences and wearing that awful beige prison uniform. 

Geralt was waiting for him. Tall and broad, the afternoon sun making his white hair gleam, gold eyes turned to the ground, his hands shoved in his pockets as he stared at the ground, brooding against the hood of Roach, his 1963 Ford Falcon Futura. This sight of him made Jaskier’s stomach twist. It had been a long five years. 

“Hello, dearest,” Jaskier smiled as soon as he was in ear shot. 

Geralt turned to look at him, lips turning up at the corners as he stood up straight and opened his arms. Jaskier sank into his embrace, a soft moan escaping him at the feeling of having those warm, strong arms wrapped around him again. He ran his hands up and down Geralt’s back, appreciating the bulk his lover had gained since they’d last been able to touch each other. 

Jaskier pulled back, just far enough to capture Geralt’s lips in a heated kiss, drawing his hands up Geralt’s spine and neck to sink his fingers into that white hair, tugging gently. It was Geralt’s turn to moan then, as he turned them to press Jaskier against the side of the car, slipping his tongue into Jaskier’s mouth. 

“As much as I’m enjoying necking like teenagers in a parking lot,” Jaskier panted, while Geralt kissed his way down Jaskier’s neck, his lips blazing a trail of desire that seemed to be directly linked to Jaskier’s groin. “Is there a motel nearby?” 

Geralt hummed at him in response, making Jaskier snort but he was pleased that he still understood Geralt’s nonverbal form of communication. With one last kissed, Geralt slipped out of his embrace and walked around to the other side of Roach and got behind the wheel. Jaskier took the front passenger seat and resolutely ignored the fact that someone was very, very missing. It felt strange sitting in the front, he usually sat in the back while she sat where he was. 

Ten minutes later Geralt pulled into a motel parking lot. Jaskier didn’t bother to catch the name of the establishment, he didn’t care so long as it had a bed. The room Geralt rented for them was a bit dingy, there were stains on the walls and the bathroom could have been cleaner, but the sheets were fresh, and the bed was the softest thing he’d laid on in a long time. They made love on that bed, all soft touches, tender kisses and quiet whispers of affirmation and affection. Jaskier didn’t last as long as he would have liked but it had been a long five years.

Naked and sweaty, wrapped in each other's arms, Jaskier finally voiced something that had been quietly bothering him since Geralt had mentioned it during a monthly visit some four years ago. “No Yenna,” he murmured into Geralt’s hair, not a question, a statement, he knew where Yennefer was, or he had a very good hunch.

“No,” Geralt sighed, holding Jaskier just a little tighter. 

“She’s successfully filed for divorce. I got the papers yesterday.”

“Fuck.” Geralt ran his hand slowly down Jaskier’s bare back. 

Jaskier shivered at the touch, unused to casual affection after so long without it. He ached for it now and would never take it for granted again. “Yeah, fuck,” he agreed, then, “I’ve got an idea for a job.”

“You just got out of prison,” Geralt groaned, lifting his head from its place in the crook of Jaskier’s neck to glare at him.

Jaskier raised a hand and cupped Geralt’s cheek, running his thumb slowly over Geralt’s cheekbone. He watched as Geralt’s beautiful eyes fluttered closed and his breath caught when Geralt turned his head and pressed a kiss into Jaskier’s palm. “Exactly,” he reassured, “I’ve had plenty of time to think about it.” 

Geralt hummed and closed the distance between them, pressing a hard, closed mouthed kiss to Jaskier’s lips before getting out of bed and padding into the bathroom. “Tell me,” Geralt called to him. He heard Geralt turn the shower on, the weak patter of the water against the cubicle floor saying a lot about the motel’s water pressure. 

Jaskier climbed out of bed and walked to the bathroom door, leaned against the wall and told Geralt his plan, a plan that involved robbing a Vegas casino while everyone was watching a boxing match. It was a good plan, fool proof. Geralt got out of the shower and Jaskier got in, continuing to explain while Geralt sat on the closed toilet lid. The water pressure was better in prison. Jaskier could see the cogs turning behind Geralt’s eyes, and knew the man was going to agree even before he’d even finished laying everything out on the table. 

“We’re going to need a big crew,” Geralt said when Jaskier finished. 

“Ten,” Jaskier shrugged as he turned the water off, “Eleven?” 

“Who’s going to bank roll this scheme of yours?” Geralt asked, eyes alight with anticipation. 

“Who would you ask? You're more up-to-date on current affairs then I am.” Jaskier countered as he sauntered passed Geralt and back into the room, towel wrapped loosely around his waist. 

Geralt followed him, just as Jaskier was sure he would. Jaskier started drying himself off and watched Geralt think it over as he dried and dressed himself. “Nenneke,” he answered eventually.

“Why?” Jaskier asked as he started pulling his own clothes on.

“You want to go after Istredd’s casinos? Well, he bought Nenneke out a few months ago and is blowing up her casino in a few weeks to build a new hotel. She hates the design, and him.” 

“Okay, that’s good.” Jaskier nodded, “Well not for Nenneke, but for us.” The final pieces of his plan slid into place in his head. 

Finally dressed they left the motel room, handed the keys back in despite Geralt paying for the night and headed back to Roach. Geralt started the car and pulled out of the lot. 

“Right,” Jaskier said, verbalising what had come together in his brain. “Nenneke will bank roll it if we ask properly. I’m guessing your brothers will be up for it?” Geralt grunted an affirmative and Jaskier continued, “Triss, we need to go and see Triss.”

“She’s called Layla now, no one wanted to employ Triss Merigold,” Geralt told him.

“That’s...understandable,” Jaskier nodded, Triss was fantastic at fixing cards, watching her work blackjack tables was like watching her work magic. “Is she local?” 

“Boston,” Geralt mumbled as he concentrated on a junction.

Jaskier cupped his own chin as he continued to think out loud, “So there’s us, Nenneke, Eskel and Lambert, Triss… Mousesack?” 

“No, he got caught a year ago, went down for ten. I told him not to get involved with Cahir.”

“Well shit,” Jaskier sighed, drumming his fingers against his lips. “I need someone older...is your Dad still in the game?” He tried to ask it nonchalantly, as if having Vesemir Rivia in the role wasn’t critical. 

“He retired earlier this year, was having problems with his blood pressure.”

“You think he’d be up for one last job?”

“I can ask,” Geralt shrugged.

“Renfri?” A cousin on his mother’s side, they’d gotten into the game together.

“She’s on a job tomorrow night actually, in New York. Hmm, probably be best if one of us is about for when that goes down, her current crew isn’t up to our standard.” 

“Well I can’t leave the state remember,” Jaskier winked at him.

“I’ll go get Renfri,” Geralt sighed, only slightly long-sufferingly. 

“I’d have preferred talking to Nenneke first, but I don’t think we have time for that. Okay, so, I’ll go talk to Triss, you go and get Renfri and then we head over the Vegas to see Nenneke. Is Sabrina still into tech?”

“Yeah, she curbed a sentence by doing some work for the FBI.”

“Good for her,” Jaskier nodded. “We still need a greaseman… also, where are you going?” 

“About that…” Geralt trailed off as he pulled into a parking lot and cut the engine. “I think I have a greaseman for us.”

“Why are we outside of a school?” Jaskier asked, scrambling out of the car after Geralt. They were outside of a high school, it was after hours, the lot was empty except for a few cars. There were still a few people about however, he could hear what sounded like a football practise and teachers were still in their classrooms. 

“There’s something I haven’t told you,” Geralt murmured, having the good graces to look abashed when he walked around to Jaskier’s side of the car.

“What?” Jaskier asked, not letting his mind totally spiral out of control at the various possibilities.

“I have a kid,” Geralt shrugged as he walked away from Jaskier, towards the school’s campus, Jaskier hurried to catch up with him.

“What?!” he exclaimed once he’d fallen into step beside Geralt, putting two and two together.

“Like she’s not my kid but she’s my _kid_ , you know?”

“How?” 

“I found her? It was just after Yennefer left and I was driving around because I didn’t know what else to do. I saw her in an alley dumpster diving. I couldn’t _not_ do anything,” he shrugged. The school’s gymnasium loomed in front of them. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jaskier pouted, genuinely hurt. Yennefer had left a year into his prison sentence. Four years, Geralt had had a child for four years and he hadn’t told Jaskier about her. 

“I didn’t know how to,” Geralt murmured, apology unspoken but there in his tone. 

“I forgive you,” Jaskier sighed. He would forgive Geralt anything, he always had. “Why do you think she’ll be a good greaseman?” 

“You’ll see,” Geralt said, and he smiled at Jaskier, absolutely beamed with pride for this girl that Jaskier was certain he was about to meet. 

Jaskier let Geralt lead him into the gymnasium. There was gymnastics equipment everywhere, each with a teenager working on them with a coach giving them instructions. Together they found seats on the bleachers, there were other parents watching, which made Jaskier feel slightly better about being there. “Who am I looking at?” Jaskier asked at a whisper.

“Ciri’s on the bars right now,” Geralt told him, pointing. 

Jaskier followed his finger, eyes landing on a blonde girl that couldn’t have been more than sixteen working the uneven bars like an Olympian, not a high schooler. Her moves seamlessly flowed from one to the other before she dismounted with a precision that would make adult gymnasts weep. Jaskier continued to watch her as she moved onto the beam, where she repeatedly practised a complicated backflip before doing a whole routine of flips, cartwheels and aerial splits. 

“We have our greaseman,” Jaskier agreed, thoroughly impressed. 

“Only if she wants too though,” Geralt whispered hurriedly, turning in his seat to look at Jaskier. “And going to Nenneke’s will have to wait until next week when summer vacation starts. She missed a whole year because of being on the streets and she worked hard to catch up. There’s been talk of gymnastics scholarships so you’re not fucking that up for her.” 

Jaskier met that serious gaze and he felt his heart skip a beat. “Of course.”

“Thank you,” Geralt knocked their shoulders together before adding gruffly, “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” Jaskier smiled. It always made him endlessly happy when Geralt said it first. Jaskier said I love you as easy as breathing and would tell Geralt multiple times a day. Whereas it was always a little bit more difficult for Geralt to get the words out, so it made moments like this a little bit special. 

They watched the rest of the training session in silence, Jaskier sometimes letting out appreciative little noises whenever Ciri did something particularly impressive. The training session ended, the equipment was put away, Ciri disappeared into the locker room and they chatted about the best route to take to get to Nevada, via Vesemir’s house in Colorado. When she appeared again, the last one out of the locker room, Geralt stood and went to meet her. Jaskier followed a few steps behind, suddenly very nervous. 

“Hi, honey,” Geralt said, hugging Ciri before letting her go and ruffling her hair. “You were really great today.”

“Thanks, Dad” she smiled, Jaskier could see the way she totally lit up at Geralt’s praise and Geralt… Jaskier thought Geralt was soft with him and Yennefer but that was nothing compared to what he was seeing now. The line of his shoulders, the look in his eyes, the way he took her school bag from her and quietly asked her about her day. This was Geralt as a father, something Jaskier never thought he’d see, and the sight made him want to swoon. 

“Is that…?” he heard Ciri ask quietly, looking around Geralt to where Jaskier was still milling.

Geralt nodded and Ciri squealed before launching herself at Jaskier, hugging him tightly. The reception surprised him, but he very happily lifted his arms to hug Ciri back. “I’m so excited to finally meet you!” Ciri exclaimed in his ear. 

“You too,” Jaskier laughed. He looked over to Geralt to find him already watching them. Geralt’s head was tilted to the side and his face was filled with such love and tenderness at the sight of the two of them together it made Jaskier’s heart hurt. Jaskier held out a hand to Geralt who crossed the space between them and took it, squeezing gently as he rested the other on the back of Ciri’s neck.

-oOo-

**Fifty-One Days Until the Fight**

Jaskier wanted a Burger King. Five years was a long time not to have a Burger King. So, they drove to the nearest, got food and then explained the plan to Ciri. She listened quietly, the same expression on her face that Geralt wore when he was trying to convey that he was paying serious attention. Seeing that look on her face amused him to no end. He told her how impressed he found her gymnastic abilities and offered her the job. She readily agreed, she was sixteen and had been adopted into a family full of thieves. Jaskier would have been shocked if she’d turned the opportunity down. Not the mention that if they were successful, which they were going to be, she wouldn’t have to worry about needing a scholarship.

Jaskier went and visited Triss that night. She happily jumped on board, with everything they stood to gain, of course she did.

-oOo-

**Fifty Days Until the Fight**

Jaskier was left with Ciri while Geralt went to get Renfri. It was slightly unnerving, but she was almost an adult who could already look after herself, so he didn’t think it was going to be too difficult an evening. He wanted to bond with her, wanted to learn about who she was as a person and hopefully one day she would choose him the same was she’d chosen Geralt.

Jaskier ordered them pizzas, then they worked through a tub of ice cream together and watched television. It was nice. Jaskier never had trouble with being able to talk to people and Ciri wasn’t exactly shy. Jaskier hadn’t had access to a television in prison but they found common ground with books and films that had been released before he’d been incarcerated. Ciri had strong opinions about Star Wars which Jaskier was ecstatic about since Geralt had always been into Star Trek and Yennefer preferred Stargate. He finally had someone on his team.

It was a good start although Jaskier was very aware that he still had a lot to learn about Ciri, that this was just the topmost frozen atom at the tip of the iceberg. She was sixteen, eventually she was going to push back, either because Jaskier had genuinely done something to upset or annoy her, that she didn’t like it that he was telling her to do something or because she was teenager and that’s what teenagers did sometimes. Jaskier knew that there were important conversations ahead of them once the job was over, as well as finding a new home for them, a space that could be theirs, rather than just Geralt and Ciri’s.

Ciri went to bed at a sensible time since she had school the next morning but Jaskier stayed up, or at least tried too. He fell asleep on the sofa but the following morning woke up in bed next to Geralt despite having no recollection of getting there.

-oOo-

The rest of the school year passed quickly thankfully, as the apartment was a bit of a squeeze with four of them living in it. Ciri had exams, so she spent most of her time revising. The adults helped where they could with Jaskier giving her pointers for English language and literature, Geralt checking her calculus questions and Renfri quizzing her chemistry knowledge.

Jaskier made calls to a few of people he wanted as part of the crew but wouldn’t see in person and a couple of others who he thought might be good to have on the payroll, just in case. He had blueprints delivered to him in a way not even the big intelligence agencies would be able to track. One night in bed, after Jaskier had fucked Geralt into the mattress from behind with a hand over Geralt’s mouth to muffle the delicious noises he made, Geralt mentioned that he thought the crew still needed one more. Jaskier agreed. 

It was going to be a long road trip, but they still took the time to take Ciri out to celebrate the end of the school year. They went to her favourite diner before going bowling. It was nice getting to spend time together just the three of them considering if the next few days went well, they’d be living at Nenneke’s until the end of July. 

They’d already packed up, so that night they loaded into Roach and set off to cross the country. Geralt, Jaskier and Renfri all took turns driving and they crashed in a motel somewhere in the middle of nowhere, Missouri, when all three of them needed to be horizontal for just a little while before continuing on their way.

-oOo-

**Forty-Two Days Until the Fight**

Geralt had already spoken to his brothers, they were on board and just waiting for the go ahead before making the journey to Nenneke’s, but he still hadn’t spoken to his father. They’d arranged to spend the night in his childhood home on route to Nevada and he thought that was the best time to ask. Ciri loved Vesemir and Vesemir loved Ciri. He would proudly show people photos of his only grandchild whenever he went to the races or out walking with the local ladies.

His father had always loved cooking but never really got the chance anymore, so he put on a full spread for there arrival. Dinner had been fantastic and Jaskier kept making Ciri laugh which was doing funny things to Geralt’s heart. He hadn’t thought it possible to fall anymore in love with Jaskier and yet… 

Geralt was doing the dishes while his father dried. Jaskier, Ciri and Renfri were watching television in the den and Geralt knew he wouldn’t get a better shot. “We’re gonna pull a job on Istredd’s casinos on that fight night at the end of July. We should be walking away with a minimum of ten million each,” Geralt said plainly. “Eskel and Lambert are in, Jaskier wants to know if you’d be interested.”

“Why isn’t Jaskier asking me then?” his father asked, raising his eyebrows as he took a plate from Geralt. 

“You’re more likely to say no to him,” Geralt shrugged, picking up another plate and dumping it into the soapy water.

His father leaned back against the counter once he’d put away the plate he’d been drying, waiting for another and Geralt took a moment to look at his father. Even in his old age his father was still a large man, he hadn’t shrunk the way a lot of people did upon reaching their seventies. He still had a head full of hair that was almost as long and thick as Geralt’s. He commanded any room he walked into, people listened to him whether they wanted to or not and he demanded a certain kind of respect without ever having to ask for it. He was perfect for the job, Geralt knew it, Jaskier knew it and his father knew it too even though he didn’t know the details yet. If he wasn’t perfect, if he wasn’t necessary, they wouldn’t be asking him in the first place. 

“I’d never tell him this but he’s often right, that boy of yours, even if the idiot did let himself get caught.”

“He got caught so the rest of us could escape,” Geralt reminded him as he scrubbed the plate, although he knew his father hadn’t forgotten. 

“Hmm… is Ciri the greaseman by any chance?” he asked, tone disapproving. Geralt felt the weight of the disapproval and wished he could push it away but couldn’t. He still didn’t know how he felt about Ciri being part of the job even though it was his idea. He had complete faith in Jaskier, but it still made him anxious in a way he’d never been before.

“I understand why you didn’t want us to get into the game now,” Geralt admitted, handing his father the clean plate. 

“That’s a yes then,” he tutted. They continued to work in silence. It was only when everything was clean, put away, they had a fresh beer each and were heading to the den that his father spoke again, “I’m in, but not for the money, for Ciri.” 

Geralt nodded his thanks and a weight he hadn’t known he’d been carrying lifted from his chest. His father would be on the job with them, and everything would go so much better with him by their side. They entered the den and Geralt threw Jaskier a subtle thumbs up as he settled onto the larger of the two sofas between his father and Ciri. It took a moment but Geralt realised they were watching _Now You See Me_ , which forced an ironic snort from him. 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw his father shift and knew he was gearing up to say something, something Geralt had been waiting for if he was being honest. Eventually his father asked, trying to be subtle but failing miserably, “Nenneke wouldn’t happen to be involved in this venture, would she?”

Jaskier turned to him, smiling like a shark, “Why yes, we’re going to see her the day after tomorrow to ask if she’ll bank roll us. We’re hopeful considering the high return and the fact that she’d run Istredd through if ever given the chance.”

Geralt watched as his father nodded, eyebrows drawing together slightly, “She’s a fine woman, Nenneke,” he said, very seriously, “a very fine woman indeed.” 

“You should take her out for ice cream sodas, Gramps, or you know, whatever you used to do to date in the sixties,” Ciri suggested, grin just as sharp of Jaskier’s. Geralt had a sneaking suspicion that would cause him a lot of trouble in the future.

“I couldn’t possibly,” his father grumbled, returning his attention firmly back to the TV.

“Don’t see why not,” Geralt said, holding his hands up placatingly when his father turned to glare at him. “It’s been what, twelve years since Ma passed. She always liked Nenneke. I don’t think she’d mind all that much.”

His father just hummed in answer and once again looked back at the television. Geralt let out a frustrated huff and looked to Jaskier who was looking at him in a way that very much said _see? Isn’t it annoying when someone doesn’t use their words?_ Geralt gave him the middle finger, making Renfri and Ciri laugh.

-oOo-

**Forty Days Until the Fight**

Las Vegas was hot and dry and Jaskier hated it but knew he’d have to deal with it for the time being. They dropped Ciri and Renfri off at Fremont Street and then drove back out to the outskirts of the city to where Nenneke lived.

She was expecting them, but she still made a fuss like they’d arrived without warning anyway. Nenneke was somewhere in her sixties but they were all too scared to ask her exact age, she was quite short and had long brown hair that was absolutely dyed, not that any of them would mention it. She’d been married twice and both husbands had disappeared under rather interesting circumstances although nothing was ever proven. She’d inherited the casino from her first husband and multiple apartment buildings from her second. 

Jaskier had known Nenneke since he was a teenager, she’d caught him and Renfri trying to case a museum. She'd liked his gutsiness and given him a few contacts. She was his start and he respected her greatly. Nenneke had known Geralt and his brothers since they were babes in arms and was like family to them even before Vesemir had developed his very obvious old man crush on her. 

The meeting wasn’t about family though, today was about business and Jaskier knew the promise of money wouldn’t be what hooked Nenneke, but the promise of fucking Istredd over. Nenneke had taken them out into the back garden and sat them down with coffee before looking first at Jaskier and then Geralt over the tops of her sunglasses and saying, “I’m assuming you’ve got some sort of job cooking and you want my money?”

“You’re absolutely right as always, Nenneke,” Jaskier simpered, unleashing his most charming smile. They all knew his smile wouldn’t make a lick of difference but that wasn’t the point and they all knew it. Nenneke expected him to smile and roll on the charm when he wanted her money, and he was more than happy to oblige her. 

She picked up her cup and took a sip of coffee before saying, “What’s your plan then, don’t keep me waiting boys.”

“We’re going to rob three Vegas casinos,” he said bluntly.

Nenneke blinked at them for a moment, put her cup down and then burst out laughing. After a moment she stopped and frowned at them, “You’re actually fucking serious.”

Jaskier nodded.

“No one fucking robs a Vegas casino, doll,” she snorted, shaking her head. “I thought your father had taught you better than this,” she said pointedly to Geralt.

“He’s in on the job,” Geralt grunted.

That gave Nenneke pause, she had an equally large old lady crush on Vesemir and for reasons unknown to heaven, earth, hell and the family neither had gotten their acts together despite much pushing and prodding. “Absolutely not,” she said, her tone filled with finality that Jaskier wasn’t even going to try to argue against, the plan was never to argue anyway.

“Absolutely not,” she repeated, shaking her head. “And I _strongly_ advise you boys against it. Of the three most successful attempts, only two managed to hit daylight and one of those ended up with a bullet in his back.” 

“So, you won’t bankroll us?” Jaskier asked, still smiling that smile. 

“No.”

“We understand, don’t we understand, Geralt?”

“Yes,” Geralt nodded, he knew better than to hum at Nenneke, not even his father got away with that. 

Jaskier stood and reached across the table to take Nenneke’s hand, kissing the back of it. “We’ll get out of your hair now.”

“You don’t have to go quite so soon,” Nenneke said, turning her face to accept a kiss on the cheek from Geralt. “Is little Cirilla about?”

“We turned her loose with Renfri on Fremont,” Jaskier told her with a wry grin.

“If she picks five wallets, she gets to go on the zip wire,” Geralt added. 

“Good practise,” she nodded approvingly. 

They started to walk away. Jaskier was waiting for it, waiting for the question. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Geralt was feeling the same tension as he was, could see it in the line of his shoulders. 

“Out of curiosity,” Nenneke called, Jaskier stilled and had to stop himself from blowing out a breath in relief, they were almost at the gate. “Which casinos were you going after?”

Jaskier turned, flashing Geralt a quick smile as he did so. “The Bellagio, the MGM Grand and the Mirage. Istredd feeds the money from all three into a vault underneath the Bellagio. He’s hosting that fight night at the end of July in the MGM, we’re going to hit it then.”

Nenneke stood then, her lips pulling up into a menacing grin. Jaskier couldn’t see her eyes, hidden as they were by her sunglasses, but he knew Nenneke’s eyes would be sparkling. “You had me at Istredd,” she said, gesturing to the seats they’d just vacated, “sit back down boys, walk me through the plan.”

“Don’t mind if we do,” Jaskier beamed, taking Geralt’s hand and returning to the table.

-oOo-

They moved into Nenneke’s that night. Two days later Eskel, Lambert and Vesemir showed up. Ciri let out a scream like a banshee in excitement and launched herself at her uncles. Not to hug them but to tackle them to the ground and wrestle. It was clear the two huge men loved her just as much as Vesemir did. When Ciri had tired herself out and gone back to cake baking with Geralt, his brothers hugged Jaskier hard. They clapped him on the back a few times, thanked him for the opportunity and for what he’d done five years ago. For once Jaskier didn’t really know what to say.

Sabrina arrived the same day as Geralt’s family, looking slightly shifty but excited and immediately started going over the blueprints Jaskier had acquired, pouring over the wiring, looking at how it was all put together. Triss showed up the day after and immediately started flirting with Eskel, something which Jaskier found hilarious as Eskel, despite being the sunniest of the three brothers, was the worst at flirting. However, the amusement Jaskier derided from this was by far eclipsed by the hilarity he found in watching Vesemir trying to flirt with Nenneke. The old man had game, but Nenneke was purposefully making it difficult for him. 

The house was full to almost bursting despite Nenneke’s residence having many rooms but Jaskier still thought they needed one more. Jaskier pondered on who they’d need, what role they needed to fill. Jaskier was on the subway, on his way back to Nenneke’s after buying hair dye for Geralt, when he found her. He was watching because he was always watching and so, he watched a red-haired young woman who looked vaguely familiar pickpocket a wallet from the front inside pocket of someone’s coat. He was impressed enough that on his way out he bumped into her and slipped his card into her pocket. Jaskier didn’t know if she’d call, but he wanted her too. 

And she didn’t disappoint. She phoned the following morning and Jaskier and Geralt met her the following afternoon in a diner near Nenneke’s neighbourhood. 

“What’s your name?” Jaskier asked as soon as she’d settled herself opposite him.

“Cerys Craite.”

“Crach’s daughter?”

She nodded, no wonder Jaskier had recognised her. He’d done a job with Calanthe’s crew when he was in his early twenties, Crach had been a part of it. Jaskier hadn’t known Crach had any children, only that he’d died of cancer while Jaskier was in prison. 

“You’re either in or you’re out, right now.”

“You’re not gonna tell me about the job first?” she asked, frowning.

“No, you have to decide first. Feel free to take a few minutes to think it over.” 

Cerys took exactly one minute. By sundown she’d joined them at Nenneke’s.

-oOo-

**Thirty-Six Days Until the Fight**

With the entire crew assembled the real work began. In a warehouse as close to the three casinos as they could get, and it was pretty close, they started building an exact replica of the Bellagio vault. The replica was going to be used for practise runs but also to film some specific parts of the job ahead of time. They also started casing the Bellagio.

Triss worked the tables and was tasked with learning about the staff. Cerys shadowed Istredd, she learned everything about him, habits good and bad, nothing was safe from her. Eskel and Lambert learned about the casino security, noted down shift patterns, camera response times, the quickest routes out of a building that was designed to keep you in. Sabrina, posed as a technician fitted a device into the Bellagio’s server room to give her access to, well, everything. It allowed them to not only see what the cameras were recording and where but also control what the camera feeds were showing Istredd’s men in his security centre. 

Renfri started working on some incendiary devices, some fake sapphires for Vesemir’s role and also investigated a way to black out the entire city on the night of the fight. The loss of power would give Jaskier a brief window of opportunity to get passed the motion sensors that lined the elevator shaft that was the only way in and out of the vault. Vesemir practised his Russian and went to get some very lovely suits fitted. Jaskier cut and coloured Geralt’s hair so it was a nondescript brown and presented him with blue contacts so he could join his brothers inside of the casino without drawing too much attention to himself. 

Nenneke found Ciri a local gymnastics group so she could keep her hand in throughout the preparation stages of the job, paid for the tuition and everything else. One sunny afternoon Triss, Eskel and Lambert went away and returned with all the vans they’d need for the job, bought at a very reasonable price. Jaskier knew better than to ask how they’d swindled the dealer into it. 

Everything was coming together nicely. The crew knew what roles they were to play, the only thing to do was to practise. On the night their timing would need to be impeccable and they had very little margin for error. Jaskier had faith in his crew, and his crew had faith in him and the plan.

-oOo-

**Thirteen Days Until the Fight**

Geralt was standing next to Cerys at the bottom of the Bellagio’s grand staircase, listening intently as Cerys talked him through Istredd’s daily routine and what she’d found out about the vault’s access codes. They changed daily, only Istredd had all of them, and he always kept them on his person. Geralt was considering how they were going to liberate the codes from Istredd when Cerys made a throw away comment about the best part of her day. She nodded towards and top of the stairs, Geralt followed her line of sight and his breath caught in his chest.

Yennefer was descending the stairs, a vision in black and white and looking just the same as she had when he’d last seen her, four years previous. Except she looked relaxed now, here within the walls of the Bellagio. Her face was neutral, which for Yennefer, always so quick to anger, always so expressive despite trying not to be, was telling of how comfortable she felt. He remembered the way her face had twisted with anger and hurt before she’d left.

Geralt turned away with a curse. Yes, his hair was brown and short and yes, his eyes were a strange shade of blue thanks to the contacts, but he couldn’t take any chances. Jaskier and Yennefer had been together for fifteen years and married for thirteen, when Jaskier had gone to prison. Geralt had had joined them two years into the marriage. They’d been together for twelve years when Yennefer walked out on him. She was just as observant as Jaskier, if not more so, and his disguise would likely not fool her, so he ducked behind a pillar for good measure. 

Once Yennefer had walked past him, Geralt returned to Cerys’ side and let out another curse for good measure.

“You know her?” Cerys asked.

“I’m going to speak to Jaskier,” he said instead of answering, “you keep on Istredd.” 

He walked away before Cerys had the chance to reply. It was only a ten minute walk to the warehouse, but it still gave plenty time for his anger to build from a steady simmer to rolling boil. Upon reaching the warehouse Geralt threw the side door open with enough force that it bounced off the wall and shut itself behind him. 

“Jaskier,” he snarled as he stalked through the space looking for the man.

“Yes, dearest,” he chirped, appearing out from one of the office spaces at the back of the room. 

“Yennefer,” Geralt growled coming to a stop in front of Jaskier, vaguely aware that the rest of the crew who’d been in the building were hurriedly leaving.

“What about her?” Jaskier pouted up at him, eyes wide with innocence that would fool most people, but not him.

“Do not,” he warned. “I’ve just seen her Jaskier and I know you, I know you knew she was here. You should have told me?!”

“You didn’t tell me about Ciri?” Jaskier countered, putting his hands on his hips.

“That was different. If Yennefer had seen me, it could have blown the whole operation! She’d know we were pulling a job.”

“You could have decided you actually enjoyed gambling-” 

“Jaskier!” 

“I wasn’t sure she was actually here!” Jaskier said, throwing his hands out wide. “I didn’t know for certain.”

Geralt huffed out a breath, trying to keep his anger in check. He tried to see it from Jaskier’s side but failed miserably. “You should have told me,” he repeated, “I don’t care that you weren’t sure. Seeing her without any warning...It fucking hurt, Jaskier!” 

He turned away then and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger as his anger turned into sorrow. “Yes, she divorced you,” he continued, “but she left _me_. You were in prison, she didn’t physically walk away from you. I was the one who had to deal with watching her pack all her stuff up while I begged her to stay. I _begged_ her, Jaskier, but it wasn’t good enough, _I_ wasn’t good enough and she left and then I had to cope with that by myself!” 

Geralt's heart was beating a tattoo against his chest as he remembered how awful it had been immediately after Yennefer left. He’d struggled in those interim weeks between her leaving and finding Ciri, barely able to deal with living in a place that was filled with memories of Yennefer and Jaskier while unable to touch either of them. It was why he’d moved when he had found Ciri. At the time he’d told Jaskier it was because he wanted to live closer to the prison but that hadn’t factored into it at all. He wanted a new space, not only to make things easier for Ciri but to make things easier for himself. 

He heard Jaskier come up behind him and felt those strong arms slip around his waist, felt the press of Jaskier’s forehead against his neck. Geralt relaxed backwards into him and let his own arms rest over Jaskier’s. “I’m sorry, dearest,” Jaskier whispered, breath tickling Geralt’s skin, “I didn’t know it was that bad.”

“I didn’t exactly want to talk about it during visiting hours,” he mumbled. “Looks like we’re back to being shit at communicating.” 

“We’ll just have to start practising again,” Jaskier sighed.

Geralt hummed his agreement, turned in the circle of Jaskier’s arms and gazed down into those wonderfully blue eyes. He let his sorrow slip away and be replaced with the love and contentment that being held by Jaskier always invoked. Geralt let his eyes fall closed as he leaned down to kiss Jaskier, keeping it closed mouthed and thoughtful until one of Jaskier hands slid up his back and started pulling at his now shorter hair as he pressed his tongue to the seam of Geralt’s lips. Geralt, never able to deny him anything parted his lips and let Jaskier turn the kiss desperate and frantic. Geralt dropped his hands to Jaskier’s lovely round bum and squeezed, making Jaskier moan against his mouth.

“They’re friends again,” Ciri shouted, voice cutting through the lust filled fog that had taken over Geralt’s brain. He was still getting used to being able to touch Jaskier again and sometimes he found himself getting carried away but at the sound of his daughter’s voice he jumped back at least a metre, his reaction making Jaskier chuckle. 

The rest of the crew filed back in, some of them snorting at the lovely pink blush that was now colouring Jaskier’s cheeks. Lambert looked him up and down and wolf whistled, Sabrina smirked and pointed at her head and Geralt quickly went to work flattening his hair. 

“You guys are gross,” Ciri commented, patting him on the arm as she walked past. Geralt couldn’t help but laugh when Jaskier’s blush deepened.

-oOo-

**Eleven Days Until the Fight**

Jaskier watched, Geralt by his side, as Nenneke stood on a little stage next to Yennefer and Istredd. Jaskier watched as Nenneke, face looking like she was chewing a lemon, stood side by side with Istredd as they depressed the large fake detonator that was up on the stage with them. Everyone turned to watched Nenneke’s casino plunge to the ground. Jaskier didn’t, instead he watched Yennefer, radiant as she was in the afternoon light.

The building came down and Las Vegas power grid cut out.

-oOo-

**Eight Days Until the Fight**

The replica vault was finished, and it was time to start rehearsals. Jaskier stood on the side they’d left open, opposite the vault’s door. Ciri was by his side, the rest of the crew arranged around behind them. No one wanted to miss Ciri in action despite Geralt glaring up a storm to try and put them off. By the set of Ciri’s chin though the audience was making her more determined, something that instilled Jaskier with confidence.

Jaskier had been making sure he spent time with Ciri every day. She loved coffee just as much as he did, so they went out to get nice take out coffees during the day before exploring the city a little bit. He was steadily getting to know her as she allowed him to see a little bit more of herself every day. This was the first time he’d be instructing her in the capacity of the job’s leader though, and he wanted it to go well, for her just as much as him.

“So,” he said, pointing at one of the four hip high money cages in the middle of their vault. “You will be in one of those, with an air canister that will last thirty minutes, it’s been modified so you, you know, fit. When the canister runs out, you climb out of the cage.”

“I’ll definitely be in the vault when that happens?” Ciri asked, she didn’t sound worried but when he turned to look at her there was a small line between her eyebrows.

“Yes,” he assured her. “So, you’ve climbed out of the cage. You then have to get from the cage to the vault door where you will place two small explosive devices provided by Renfri. I will knock when we get to you, you will knock to say that the devices are in place, I will place two more devices on the outside of the door and then knock again. You’ll have a minute to get back inside of the cage before I detonate the device. Okay?”

“Okay,” Ciri nodded. “What’s the catch?” So sharp, Jaskier loved it.

“The floor is lava.” 

“Fantastic.” she grinned up at up.

With that he helped her into the modified cage and returned to his spot. “Whenever you’re ready,” he called her. 

A moment later Ciri slipped easily out of the top of the cage and stood to her full height on the top of the one next to the one she’d just been inside. She tilted her head to the side as she looked between where she was standing and the cabinet full of casino chips in front of her. It was so quiet in the warehouse you could hear a pin drop. 

Without any warning, Ciri flipped neatly and landed on top of the cabinet in a sitting position. She flashed him a brief smile and quirked an eyebrow at him. 

“Knock, knock,” Jaskier said and then watched on as she spun around and launched herself at the fake vault door, using the two of the multiple spokes on it to hold herself up. 

She placed two imaginary devices on the door and called back to him, “Knock, knock.”

“Knock, knock,” he repeated and started counting down from sixty. 

Ciri easily turned herself around on the vault door, tucked her legs under her, feet flat on a section of smooth metal and jumped gracefully back to the cabinet. She caught herself easily and pulled herself up and onto the top of the unit before flipping back to the cages. She jumped back inside the modified one, let the lid close for a moment before she popped back out and shouted, “BANG!” before devolving into giggles. 

Everyone started to clap, she was perfect. He turned and smiled at Geralt who was beaming with pride, as was Vesemir, Eskel and Lambert. Still clapping Jaskier walked over to Ciri and held out his hand to help her back out of the cage.

“You did good, kiddo, really good,” he told Ciri with a smile. She absolutely beamed back at him before launching herself at her dad and uncles, chattering excitedly about what she’d just pulled off. 

Jaskier turned to say something to Geralt when Renfri stormed into the warehouse, face like thunder. “They’re fixing the power grid!” she screeched, coming to a halt in front of them and making them all fall silent.

“Is that bad?” Jaskier asked, already knowing he wouldn’t like the answer.

“It’s catastrophic. They’re fixing the back door I was going to exploit to black out the city.”

“Could you create a new door?” he suggested tentatively. 

“Not before the fight, there’ll be workers down there around the clock because it’s such a big job. They’re doing a total overhaul of the city’s power grid,” she pushed a hand into her hair and paced for a moment, they all watched her, not daring to break whatever road of thought she’d gone down. This was her area of expertise and hers alone. “An electromagnetic pulse would do the trick,” she said after a couple of minutes, “but I can’t build one that big in a week. Fuck, I wouldn’t even be able to source the parts in a week.”

“Renfri, my darling, look around the room. You don’t need to build one,” Jaskier spread his arms wide to gesture at the crew ranged around him. “Where’s the nearest?”

She thought for another moment before answering, “Caltech, they should have one big enough at Caltech.”

Jaskier looked at the people around him, “Road trip anyone?”

-oOo-

Four hours was actually a long time to be stuck in the back of a van. After five years in a cell Jaskier thought he would be able to deal with it a little better but, if anything it made it worse. He’d never suffered from claustrophobia but Jaskier would be lying if he said he wasn’t feeling jittery and the space was only going to get smaller once they were crammed in the back with the EMP.

Having Ciri on the job helped. It was to be a learning opportunity for her, or at least that was how they’d pitched to it Geralt. Jaskier loaded up a campus map of Caltech and talked her through what they were going to do and how they were going to do it, happily answering any questions she had about the small operation. Cerys, Lambert, Eskel and Renfri were with them, Lambert was driving, although Jaskier mostly ignored them to focus on Ciri. 

Jaskier was glad to get out of the van when they arrived. He would have really liked to have taken a moment just to breathe but knew they didn’t have time for that. He told Cerys to stay in the van with Lambert, she wasn’t happy about it, but he didn’t care. He, Ciri, Renfri and Eskel slipped inside of the engineering building and made short work of liberating the EMP. The bastard was heavy though and it took all of them to lift it onto the trolley they’d brought with them. That was the hardest part though and they left via the same route they’d entered. Sabrina had looped the security cameras for them, using the back door she’d had in the system since the nineties. They hadn’t even needed to worry about covering their faces.

Lambert was waiting for them in the van and with a bit more manoeuvring they slid the EMP in the back and climbed in after it. As soon as the back doors were shut Lambert pulled away. They were celebrating a job well done when Jaskier noticed they were missing someone.

“Where the fuck is Cerys?” he asked, he knew he wouldn’t get an answer so without waiting for one he continued, “Lambert, go back, we can’t leave her although I am sorely tempted to.” 

Lambert reversed the van back to the engineering building and Jaskier opened the vans back doors, Renfri and Ciri looked out over his shoulders. 

“There she is,” Renfri said, pointing at movement in the stairwell off to the side of the doors. Jaskier watched as Cerys practically threw herself down full flights of stairs to evade being caught by the security guards that were chasing her. Great, just excellent, really what he needed. Jaskier was officially annoyed. She came flying out of the doors, Jaskier and the others sat back to give her room and she launched herself into the back of the van. 

“Drive, Lambert!” Jaskier snapped, reaching out to close the door on his side. “What the fuck was that, Cerys?” he snarled at her as she righted herself in the back of the van, sitting down opposite him between Ciri and Eskel. 

“I’m sorry, okay,” she panted, beside her Ciri was struggling to close the other back door.

“Are you not taking this seriously? If I tell you to do something, you fucking do it whether you like it or not!” 

Lambert turned sharply and the still open back door started to swing closed.

“I know, I-” Cerys cut off as Jaskier lunged forward, he wasn’t lunging for her though, he lunged at Ciri who was still trying to close the door. 

He grabbed her arm and pulled it inside of the van and out of the way of the closing back door just in time to stop it from crushing her hand. Ciri stared wide-eyed between her hand and Jaskier. “It’s okay, kiddo, you’re okay,” Jaskier murmured as he sat back in his seat. He reached across the space between then and ran his hand over the top of her head before rounding on Cerys.

“This is why!” he shouted, seeing red. “This is why you do as you’re fucking told! If Ciri’s hand had been broken by that door that would have been your fault. She’s not just our greaseman, she’s a fucking gymnast and a fucking fantastic one at that. Breaking her hand would have ruined her career, and that would have been on _you_! And you fucking bet you’d never work a heist job again, breaking the hand of Ciri Rivia? Vesemir would see the that, fuck I’d see to that, this is of course if Geralt didn’t fucking kill you first. He was in the army, you know, he has confirmed kills. 

"This isn’t school,” he continued, voice harsh and feral, filling the small space, “this is the real deal. There are severe consequences for not following your fucking orders to the letter. You could wind up in prison, you could wind up dead, or worse, a member of your crew could go down because you couldn’t follow a simple instruction and then you have to live with that. Could you? If you decided to go fucking rogue and, I don’t know, it blew Eskel’s cover and he took a bullet in the back because of it, could deal with that? We are a team, and to function as a team you have to do _what I fucking tell you!_ Do you understand?”

“Yes, I’m sorry Jaskier,” Cerys whispered, she wouldn’t meet his eyes and sat there looking like every bit of her twenty years. Jaskier deflated, let his anger leave him in a big gust of air. He shouldn’t have gone for her throat like that, she was just a kid, she was still learning. The fact that Lambert hadn’t said anything about Ciri almost getting hurt also spoke volumes to how harsh he’d been.

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone off like that,” he sighed, leaning back in his seat and running his hands through his hair. Cerys not listening to him wasn’t the reason why he’d jumped so quickly to anger. It was the thought of Ciri almost getting hurt, the thought of having to explain that to Geralt, to explain why she’d been hurt on his watch when Geralt had entrusted him with her safety. The thought made him want to be sick, still, even though nothing had happened to Ciri, even though he had been quick enough. 

“Ciri,” Cerys said, turning to her, “I’m sorry to you too, are you alright?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Ciri murmured. 

She was still looking at Jaskier so he reached out and gently patted her knee before looking around him. He did not want to spend another four hours in the back of the van. “Hey Lambert, stop at the next gas station, if you please. I want to drive.”

-oOo-

**Five Days Until the Fight**

Jaskier, Geralt, Vesemir and Nenneke were in a very fancy tailors for the final fitting of Vesemir’s suits. That evening Vesemir was going to check into the Bellagio as a man named Alexei Volkov, and then the crew were going to start moving the equipment they’d need for the job up into the suite. Subtly of course.

Jaskier didn’t need to wonder why Nenneke was there, yes, she was paying for the suit alterations, but she usually just gave Jaskier her credit card. Not today though, today she sat with him and Geralt on the sinfully comfy sofa that sat opposite the shops large wall of mirrors so the customers could admire their handywork. With a magazine in hand she openly ogled Vesemir over the top of it when she thought he wasn’t looking and sometimes purposefully when he was. The attention was making Vesemir trip over his words, something which Jaskier found delightful and Geralt found embarrassing if the way he kept rolling his eyes was any indication. 

Vesemir was looking in the mirrors and considering the royal blue suit he was wearing, the last he had to try on, when Jaskier got out of his seat and slowly approached the older man, hands on his hips. “You sure you’re up for this, Vesemir?” he asked quietly, thinking of the blood pressure issues Geralt had mentioned. 

Jaskier realised his mistake as Vesemir turned his head and delivered a stare so withering Jaskier had to force himself not to just up and leave the state, fuck the job, the man he essentially considered his father-in-law had just found him utterly lacking. Gone was the man who’d just been floundering because of a woman’s attentions and in his place was the Vesemir Rivia that made security guards the world over piss their pants and investigative detectives casually not notice pieces of critical evidence going missing. “The only thing,” Vesemir rumbled, tone dripping with disdain, “that is stopping me from putting you through this wonderful shop's windows, is the love my son holds for you.”

“I’m very sorry, sir, I overstepped,” Jaskier hurried to placate, holding both of his hands up in a surrender gesture. 

“Yes, son, you did.” Vesemir was not using the term ‘son’ as an endearment. “And you’re never going to again, is that clear?”

“Crystal, sir.”

With that Vesemir turned and disappeared back into the changing room. Jaskier continued to stand in front of the mirror, looking at himself and feeling thoroughly put in his place. He turned and walked stiffly back to the sofa, feeling slightly off kilter with himself. Geralt looked up from his own magazine and raised an eyebrow at him, _what did you expect?_ it said, Jaskier pulled a face in return, _I don’t know_. 

He sank down into the space he’d vacated. Beside him Nenneke fanned herself with her magazine, “Oh, that man,” she sighed appreciatively, “he’s still got it, hasn’t he?”

“I’m so glad you took pleasure in my dressing down, Nen, really appreciate it,” he groaned, covering his face with his hands. 

“Anytime, doll.” He didn’t need to look at her face to know she was smirking.

-oOo-

**Two Days Until the Fight**

Jaskier walked through the restaurant, berating himself the entire way but also unable to stop himself at the same time. He recognised Yennefer by the back of her head, by the lines of her long neck, by the way her coal black hair gleamed in the soft lighting and made a beeline for her. Once he stood behind her, he took a moment to enjoy the lilacs and gooseberries scent of her perfume before putting a hand on her shoulder.

“You’re almost thirty seconds late,” she said, voice playful, turning in her seat, “I was about to send out a search par- _Julian_?” She snarled his name and he hated it.

“Hello, Yenna,” he smiled. Yennefer smacked his hand from her shoulder and he worked hard to hide the wince. 

So it didn’t look like he was loitering, he took what would have been Istredd’s seat. However, Jaskier knew Istredd was currently occupied by Vesemir, who was questioning him about security arrangements for the fake sapphires they were having delivered on the night of the job. Vesemir didn’t know Jaskier had asked him to do the questioning at this specific time so he could talk to Yennefer but what Vesemir didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Across the table from him Yennefer’s eyes were full of fire as she glared at him, her anger clear in every line of her body that was visible above the table. 

“I was surprised to hear you’d started curating, seems a bit pedestrian for an art thief,” Jaskier commented, purposefully stoking that anger because apparently, he had a death wish. 

“What can I say, I finally felt the need to settle down,” Yennefer hissed, smiling as sharp as a straight razor, she looked beautiful. “If you never managed to make me want that, that’s on you.” 

“You didn’t want to settle down because you were having the time of your life helping me steal things that shouldn’t have been possible to steal,” he grinned, wide and lazy, the way he knew annoyed her. “I was too exciting for you to even consider it.” 

“Too arrogant, more like. You promised me everything, but it was just a load of hot air in the end. You did get the divorce papers, yes?” She narrowed her eyes at him. She still wore her purple contacts, he was glad. 

“Day before I got out of prison,” he answered, winking at her.

“What part of those papers gave you the impression that I’d ever want to see your face again? You have crow’s feet now, by the way, just in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“I’m forty, Yenna, and moisturiser was hardly available in the clink.”

“Don’t call me Yenna,” she snapped.

“Does Istredd give you everything you want?” he asked, ignoring her request.

“Yes, he actually has the money to put it where his mouth is.”

Not for much longer, Jaskier thought spitefully before asking, “But does he make you laugh?”

“He doesn’t make me so angry I could weep.”

“So, no then,” he smirked. 

“Are you here on a job?” she asked, changing the subject and making him smirk even harder. 

“Why, Yenna, I just got out of the prison, would I be so stupid? Can you not accept that maybe I just wanted to see my wife.”

“Ex, _ex_ -wife, Julian, and don’t call me Yenna.” 

“But you’re still calling me Julian?” 

“Don’t worry, it won’t happen again.” 

He believed her as well. Jaskier knew he should stop purposefully winding her up but sitting across from her he could no longer deny to himself that he was angry with her. She’d abandoned him. He’d gone to prison so the crew wouldn’t have too, she was part of that crew and she’d left him and Geralt like they were nothing to her, or at least not enough to fight for. Jaskier still wanted her back though.

“Would he give up everything for you?” Jaskier asked. The look she gave him let him know some of his anger had made its way to the surface. She stuck her jaw out in defiance, looked him in the eye and said, “Yes.”

“We’ll see,” Jaskier snorted.

“Go fuck yourself, Jaskier.”

“Fuck me yourself, my dear.” He countered, tone acidic, “Does he let you peg him? I really can’t imagine he does, seems like too much of a square. That can’t be satisfying for you, why would you want to be with someone wh-”

“Jaskier,” she growled, and he knew he’d overstepped, knew he’d well and truly, put his foot in it.

“Sorry, I’m sorry Yennefer,” he sighed, letting himself sag forward and rest his elbows on the table, “truly. That was uncalled for. I didn’t come here to antagonise you-”

“Really? You could have fooled me,” she muttered.

“I just wanted to see that you were okay.”

“Well, you came, you saw. Now leave.”

“I miss you, Yennefer, so does Geralt,” he sighed and then stood up. If he didn’t know what to look for, he’d have missed the brief tightening around her eyes. She didn’t like how it ended any more than they did, not that she’d ever admit it, but he didn’t expect her too. He wanted to kiss her goodbye but knew not to ask. This plan of his, this scheme, it might win her back, it might not and if it didn’t, he wanted to feel the touch of her lips once last time. But he didn’t ask. 

Jaskier debated telling her about Ciri but that really wouldn’t be playing fair. He wanted her to come back to them because she wanted them, realised that they were better than Istredd, not subject herself to them because of the promise of a daughter. 

He could see Istredd making his way through the restaurant to them and Jaskier looked him over with a critical eye. He was reasonably tall, in his mid-forties and had his hair combed in a way that was trying but failing to cover a receding hairline. Jaskier didn’t think he looked particularly remarkable, but he could admit that he was incredibly biased against this man. He also found that most men paled in comparison to Geralt anyway. 

Maybe Istredd did make Yennefer laugh. Jaskier wondered if he’d seen her laugh breathlessly above him as she rode herself to completion, or heard the snort of a laugh she let out whenever she was trying to hide the fact she found something amusing, or listened to the way her laughter could grow from a tinkle to a scream to silent belly-laughter. Belly-laughter where all she could do was clutch at her stomach, tears of mirth running down her face, unable to speak because she found something so funny. Did Istredd make her laugh like that? Jaskier hoped he didn’t, hoped that was something only he and Geralt had ever been able to do. 

“I hope this man isn’t bothering you, darling,” Istredd said when he reached them, looking Jaskier up and down. There was recognition in his eyes, he knew who Jaskier was even if he wasn’t saying it. 

“He was just leaving,” Yennefer replied, voice saccharine as she looked up at Istredd through her eyelashes but Jaskier could still see the anger simmering behind her eyes.

“It was lovely to see you, Yennefer,” he smiled, trying to catch her eye.

“Goodbye, Jaskier,” she didn’t look at him, merely turned and faced away from him as Istredd slid into the seat he’d vacated, smirk on his bastard face.

Jaskier turned away, resisted the urge to punch Istredd and left the restaurant.

-oOo-

**One Day Until the Fight**

“I have good news and bad news,” Sabrina said as soon as Jaskier stepped foot in Vesemir’s hotel suit, their control centre for the operation. She was standing up behind the array of monitors that sat on dining table. The look on her face told him this would not bode well for him. It was the first thing in the morning, Geralt had kept him up all night and he hadn’t had any coffee yet. Jaskier decided it was much to early for them to have a problem, but he knew turning about face and walking right back out of the suite again wasn’t really an option.

He looked around the room. Geralt was already there, sitting at the bar and looked wholly unimpressed with him. Cerys, Vesemir and Nenneke were also present. Cerys was leaning against a wall. Vesemir and Nenneke were sitting together on one of the multitude of sofas in the suite, halfway through a game of cards. Jaskier gestured for Sabrina to go on, not moving from his spot.

“There’s going to be around a hundred and sixty million dollars in the vault tomorrow night,” Sabrina said. 

Jaskier whistled appreciatively and didn't really want to hear the bad news. “Can we just leave it at that?” he asked, aiming for levity. 

Geralt gave him a flat look before saying, “After you went to see Yennefer last night Istredd red flagged you.” 

Jaskier didn’t try to deny it, Geralt wouldn’t have been confronting him about it if they didn’t have the video footage from the restaurant. “So?” Jaskier asked.

“As soon as you step foot inside of the casino they’ll be watching you like a hawk. With men and with cameras,” Nenneke said, tutting in disapproval, not looking up from the cards. “Honestly, doll, how long have you been in this game?” 

“Well you know me,” he grinned, trying to make light of the situation as he walked across the room to sit on the sofa opposite Nenneke and Vesemir. “I’m like a moth to a flame.”

“Obviously we knew Yennefer was here from the tiff you two got into,” Vesemir said, gesturing between Jaskier and Geralt. “But you should not have gone to see her, at least not without consulting us.” 

“You’re right,” Jaskier sighed, not caffeinated enough to argue, he leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees and rubbing at his chin with one hand. “So, what’re we gonna do? I can’t trigger the vault anymore if they’re watching me.” 

“Kids gonna do it,” Geralt said, nodding to Cerys.

“Bit of a risk don’t you think?”

“You put us all at risk by going to see Yennefer, Jaskier!” Geralt exclaimed hotly. He was more annoyed than he was letting on. Jaskier hadn’t told him he was going to see Yennefer, and he should have. That would be causing Geralt infinitely more pain then the job being at risk. He had fucked up by not communicating, again. 

“I’ll take Cerys through my part then. Geralt are you okay to tell everyone the change of plan, please?”

Geralt grunted his acknowledgement and walked over to join Sabrina at the monitors to make the calls. He didn’t look at Jaskier as he walked past. Jaskier’s heart beat painfully in his chest, he really needed to stop fucking up. He would apologise to Geralt later though, first he had to teach Cerys how to be an affective chameleon in less than twenty-four hours.

-oOo-

**Fight Night, 8AM**

Jaskier was getting dressed for the day. Morning light streamed through the windows of the bedroom he and Geralt had been sharing in Nenneke’s home for the past few weeks. He’d apologised before they’d gone to bed the night before and Geralt had forgiven him.

Jaskier felt apprehensive. If things went as planned, he was very certain Istredd would call him in for violating the terms of his parole. The plan should go without a hitch, but it was what came after. Three to six months wasn’t a very long time in the grand scheme of things, but he didn’t want to leave Geralt again, and now of course there was Ciri. He didn’t want to leave her either. The funny, intelligent girl who was a little firecracker at heart and who he had very much grown to love over the last few weeks. 

He sighed and put on his shoes. 

Geralt walked in, a coffee for each of them. Jaskier accepted his with a smile. No one could make him coffee like Geralt could make him coffee. He took a sip, perfection in a mug, as usual. “Come sit next to me, please,” Jaskier said quietly, patting the space on the bed beside him.

Geralt did as asked, looked into Jaskier’s eyes for a moment before reading him like a book. “You think you’re going back to prison,” he rumbled.

“I do,” Jaskier agreed, leaning into Geralt and resting his head on his shoulder. Geralt took his hand and pressed his cheek to the top of Jaskier’s head. The intimacy of the small gestures made Jaskier want to cry and he let his eyes close against the hot prickle of tears. “Wait for me by the fountain?”

“Of course,” Geralt breathed, he turned his head and Jaskier felt his lips pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head.

“If I’m not there by nine, assume I’m on my way back to Massachusetts.”

Geralt hummed his agreement, making Jaskier smile. They continued to sit side by side on the edge of the bed in silence, drinking their coffees and just enjoying each other's company. When their cups were empty Jaskier took both and placed them on the floor before pressing desperate kisses to Geralt’s lips, clutching him as close as possible while letting himself relish in the feeling of having Geralt’s arms wrapped around him. 

“I love you,” Geralt breathed against his lips. 

What a thrill those words still sent coursing through Jaskier. He’d never get tired of hearing them. “I love you too, dearest,” he whispered in return.

-oOo-

**Fight Night, 7:15PM**

Jaskier caught up with Yennefer as she walked across the casino floor, heading to the MGM for the fight, by the way she was dressed.

“Why are you still here, Jaskier? You are on a job aren’t you? Or are you here on some antiquated, outdated notion that you can somehow win me back, because guess what? You can’t and you never will.”

“I just came to say goodbye,” he shrugged, smiling sheepishly. 

Yennefer paused and looked at him carefully before her anger left her just as soon as it came. “Well...goodbye,” she said, tone final. 

Even if he wasn’t trying to slip a phone into her pocket, he still would have bridged the distance between them, to press a gentle kiss to her cheek. He was gratified to hear her breath hitch at the soft touch. He dropped the phone into her pocket without her noticing and task complete, pulled back and smiled at her sadly.

“Goodbye, Yennefer,” he murmured. Without another word she turned and walked away. Jaskier wanted to watch her go but the two goons Istredd had sent to follow him as soon as he’d stepped onto the casino floor that evening chose that moment to appear either side of him and take him into the bowls of the Bellagio. 

The game was finally afoot.

-oOo-

The first part of the plan went like this:

Vesemir, pretending to be a rich Russian businessman by the name of Alexei Volkov met Istredd in the lobby of the Bellagio and collected a briefcase from two couriers. The couriers were Eskel and Lambert, the briefcase contained the fake sapphires. Istredd did not allow any private security into the back area of the casino but that was fine because a man that was on their payroll tried to accost Mr Volkov as they walked across the casino floor. Eskel and Lambert happily led him away. Mr Volkov was then led to the casino’s security centre to watch the transport of the briefcase into the vault from the monitors there. 

Triss, known to the Bellagio staff as Layla Sanderson, was dealing at a blackjack table.

At the same time the briefcase arrived at the Bellagio, Renfri set off from the warehouse in the van that contained the EMP to a location she’d decided would cause maximum impact. 

Cerys moved into position by the doors that led to the staff only area of the casino and waited for Istredd to emerge. 

Eskel and Lambert, after ‘escorting’ the man away, retired to a discrete area and changed into the gold uniforms worn by the hotel staff that delivered room service. However, the trolley they were pushing was actually the modified casino cage, disguised to look like a room service trolley. They took the elevator up to Mr Volkov’s suite. 

Cerys intercepted Istredd when he returned to the casino floor after escorting Mr Volkov to the security centre and introduced herself as being from the Nevada Gaming Commission. Istredd wanted to head over to the MGM, and the fight, but he would to do anything for the NGC. Cerys informed him that a known con artist and ex-convict, named Triss Merigold was working in his casino under the name Layla Sanderson. 

Upon reaching Mr Volkov’s suite Eskel and Lambert helped Ciri into the cage, handed her the air canister, closed the lid and went back to the elevator

Istredd, not wanting his customers to see any kind of scene insisted that Cerys talk to Triss off the floor. So, the three, plus a member of casino security walked into the bowels of the casino, took a few turns that Cerys took careful notice of and entered a conference room. The security guard sat Triss down and Cerys and Istredd stood at the head of the table, discussing the situation. 

Eskel and Lambert exited the elevator, now dressed in the red uniform of the casino floor personnel that handled the cages, pushing the modified casino cage that contained Ciri in front of them. Ciri really wanted to sneeze and was not enjoying being unable too.

In the conference room Cerys attempted to interrogate Triss before informing Istredd the NGC rules for employing ex-convicts. Triss started arguing, Cerys very poorly tried to argue back and put her foot in it. Triss lunged out of her chair at Cerys, Cerys stumbled back, turned and picked the vaults security codes out of Istredd’s front pocket. 

Sabrina and Geralt, watching Cerys from Mr Volkov’s suite, gave Eskel and Lambert the all clear. They wheeled the cage containing Ciri over to a security door they didn’t have access to and started cussing each other out about Eskel ‘forgetting’ his card. The doorman, not wanting a scene, took the cage from them and took it to elevator that went down to the vault. Mr Volkov’s briefcase was placed on top of modified casino cage and then both were taken down to the vault. 

Still watching on the monitors, Sabrina and Geralt saw Mr Volkov take a small pill. Upon seeing that Geralt pulled on his wig, grabbed the doctor’s bag and started towards the door of the suite. Sabrina checked on Renfri’s status. Renfri was almost in position.

Istredd fired Triss and asked security to show her out the back door. On the way back to the casino floor with Istredd, Cerys told him she’d forgotten her pager, but she knew her way back and told Istredd she hoped he enjoyed the fight. After all, there was less than five minutes before the first round bell rang. Cerys did not go back for her imaginary pager, instead she headed for the elevator that led down to the vault.

Jaskier, who’d been sitting in a windowless, cameraless room with the two goons staring at him, looked at his watch and asked how long Istredd would be. The goons left and were replaced by a large man who went by the name of Bruiser. Bruiser was on their payroll. 

The cage Ciri was in was placed in the vault with Mr Volkov’s briefcase on top of it. In the security centre Mr Volkov said he was satisfied with the placement. He was sweating profusely. 

Bruiser helped Jaskier into the vent duct on the ceiling of the room they were in. 

In the MGM Grand, Istredd took his ringside seat next to Yennefer. Nenneke sat a row and four seats down from them. 

Cerys strode confidently down a corridor, the vault elevator was at the end of it. In the security centre, they noticed Cerys, but before they could do anything about it, Mr Volkov collapsed to the floor. Now unnoticed by security, Cerys slipped into the elevator with the codes she’d taken from Istredd. In the security centre someone shouted to call a doctor. 

In Mr Volkov’s suit, Sabrina intercepted the nine-one-one call for a doctor and switched the security feed of the vault elevator to a video, making it appear empty. Cerys climbed out the top of the elevator by removing a light and promptly had a heart attack when she found Jaskier waiting for her. 

Geralt walked up to the security at the staff only door on casino floor and announced that he was the doctor.

On the top of the elevator, Cerys and Jaskier took off their suits and put on their harnesses. 

In the security centre Geralt performed fake CPR on his own father, who, thanks to that little pill had slowed his heartrate down to forty beats per minute and was doing a very good job at pretending to be dead. Behind him Eskel and Lambert entered the security centre dressed as paramedics, with a stretcher. Geralt pronounced his father dead, Eskel and Lambert got him on the stretcher and wheeled him, their father, Mr Volkov, a dead man, away. Into his earpiece, Geralt confirmed to Sabrina that they were ready

In the windowless, cameraless room Bruiser pretended to beat up an imaginary Jaskier. 

In the vault’s elevator shaft, Cerys and Jaskier stuck their zip-wires to the top of the shaft, clipped the lines into their harnesses and let themselves hang above the shaft. The red beams of the motion sensors shone brightly below them. Into his earpiece, Jaskier confirmed to Sabrina that they were ready. 

Sabrina told Renfri that they were ready. Renfri detonated the EMP. Vegas went dark. 

On the Bellagio casino floor, in the darkness, a supposedly deadman got up off a stretcher, much to the relief of his three sons. A woman who’d just been fired walked back in through the front doors. 

In the elevator shaft the motion sensors deactivated, Cerys and Jaskier cracked and released some glow sticks before releasing themselves. Together they plunged downwards, in free fall as there was no time to do this slowly. The wires stopped them a metre above the concrete floor, the sudden stop hurt but it still hurt less then hitting that concrete would have. They cut themselves free and dropped the rest of the way. 

The lights and the sensors turned back on. 

On the casino floor chaos reigned. No one noticed the dead man or one of his sons get into an elevator and head up to the dead man's suite. No one noticed that a paramedic was pushing an empty gurney out of a fire exit. 

In the vault Ciri climbed out of the cage, caught Mr. Volkov’s, her grandfather's briefcase before it hit the floor. 

Jaskier opened the doors at the bottom of the elevator shaft just enough to slide a device that Renfri had made to knock the guards out silently over to where the guards were standing. Two thuds later and Cerys and Jaskier let themselves into the small room outside the vault and tied up the guards. 

Ciri flipped onto the top of the chips cabinet as well as she had during all of her practise runs. 

Sabrina, Triss, Vesemir and Eskel watched her on the camera feed. Vesemir was very proud. 

Cerys keyed in the code she stole from Istredd and she and Jaskier were finally faced with the vault door. 

Renfri arrived back at Vesemir’s suite.

-oOo-

**Fight Night, 8PM**

Jaskier knocked on the vault door, a moment later Ciri returned the knock. He placed his two devices on the door and knocked again. He counted to sixty slowly under his breath as he and Cerys took cover, then he detonated the devices. The bang was louder than he was expecting but he could still hear afterwards, and he knew from past experience the ringing in his ears would eventually go away, so he wasn’t overly bothered.

He stepped through the now open vault doors into the chaos from the explosion, looking for Ciri. With dawning horror, he realized that the cages had been blown backwards by the force of the explosives and were on their sides at the far end of the room partially underneath a knocked over cabinet. He cursed and started towards them but before he was even halfway across the vault one of the lids popped open and Ciri climbed out.

“You alright, kiddo?” he asked, closing the distance between them to lift her arms up and spin her around, checking for injuries. 

“I’m fine, Pops, what took you so long?” she smirked, turning back to him. 

His brain short-circuited for a moment, had she really just called him what he thought she’d called him. “Pops?” Jaskier asked, feeling hope blooming in his chest.

“Yeah, why not,” she shrugged, “thought I’d try it out.”

“I… Yea- It’s great, it’s fantastic. Thank you!” he pulled her into a hug. “Now let’s get your tuition money all stacked up and ready for when your Dad gets here.” 

Ciri laughed and then together, with Cerys’ help, they started piling money in the centre of the vault floor.

-oOo-

**Fight Night, 8:05PM**

Geralt had been better. He knew his father was fine, knew that he was back up in the suit with Lambert. However, that didn’t stop his brain focusing on the fact that he’d still just had to do fake CPR and pronounce him dead, get him on a stretcher and wheel him away from security control. Even though his father had been pretending, he’s looked so small and fragile when he’d been laid out on the floor like that. Geralt would never be able to forget that image. It made him feel so helpless. His heart was beating slightly faster than normal and his palms wouldn’t stop sweating from the fear it had caused in him. He knew that Eskel and Lambert were struggling with it too but none of them could stop, they still had parts to play if they were going to pull this whole thing off successfully.

So, he did his best to push the excess emotions down and pull himself together. Once he was in position Geralt rang the phone he knew Jaskier had slipped into Yennefer’s pocket earlier that evening. The sound of her voice when she answered was like a gut punch. 

He asked for Istredd and wondered if she recognised his voice, he hoped she did. He was jealous of Jaskier getting to see her, an ugly emotion but one he felt anyway. Yennefer had hurt him, hurt both of them, but it had been he who’d had to face the brunt of her ire all those years ago. He’d worked past that, forgiven her without being asked too. He just wanted to see her again and not just because Jaskier had asked him to deliver her a message, but it was a good excuse. His position on the casino floor had been determined by the route they’d know Yennefer would take back to her own suites. He was going to see her, he just hoped she’d see him first.

Geralt had great fun laying out their terms and taunting Istredd, it was almost making him feel better about the ordeal he’d just had to go through with his father. Istredd tried to threaten him but it didn’t bother Geralt, the man could do nothing to him. Geralt knew Sabrina would be playing the footage they’d recorded in the replica vault for them in the security centre, Istredd was blind, he just didn’t know it yet. 

He finished talking Istredd through the fact that he was going to let them walk away with eighty million dollars when he spotted Yennefer walking towards him with purpose. It pleased him, she recognised him even when he was purposefully hiding his most recognisable features. Geralt continued to talk to Istredd as she stopped in front of him, eyes narrowed.

“What did they do to your hair?” she asked. He lifted a hand to touch his short, now brown locks as he let his eyes rove over her. She was in one of her classic black and white dresses, her hair was pulled back from her face and she was wearing the star choker he’d given her, accentuating her slender neck. Her eyes were lined heavily, and her lips were painted red. As always, she took his breath away.

Istredd had put Geralt on hold so he let the phone fall away from his ear for a moment. “It’ll grow back,” he answered. 

“Well it looks awful,” she lifted a hand, as if to touch his hair too but she let it drop quickly back down to her side again. “You are on a job then, you and Jaskier.” It was not a question. 

“Jaskier requests you go upstairs and watch TV,” since they were on the topic of Jaskier.

“When have I ever done anything that Jaskier requested,” Yennefer snorted.

“Then do it for me.”

Istredd came back on the line then so Geralt started talking to him again. She raised her eyebrows at him, he supposed he was talking to her boyfriend about the fact he was stealing money from his vault. Geralt shrugged at Yennefer’s unspoken comment. It made her snort laugh and roll her eyes. Yennefer went to move past him and unable to help himself Geralt took her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles, a gesture of affection that had always been just theirs.

“Geralt,” she breathed, her eyes softening. As he looked into her eyes the casino surrounding them momentarily fell away and it was just the two of them. Searching for something in each other that they both knew was still there. If it wasn’t, she would have slapped him and walked away as soon as he’d taken her hand. His heart thudded painfully in his chest as he watched her lift her hand and bridge the distance between them to briefly cup his cheek before striding away. 

Geralt watched Yennefer walk away before he turned and walked in the opposite direction as he laid out more terms to Istredd. Time for the next stage of the plan.

-oOo-

The second part of the plan went like this:

While Geralt had been talking to Yennefer, Istredd in security control made his head of security call nine-one-one because he was, after all, being robbed. Sabrina intercepted the call.

Geralt walked across the casino floor, still thinking about Yennefer, and told Istredd that his men were going to place six bags containing eighty million dollars in the vault elevator, Istredd’s guards were to take the money and carry them out onto the casino floor. If it took too long, Geralt said, or if there was any indication of funny business, they’d blow the money in the bags and money in the vault. He told them that when the guards hit the casino floor a white minivan would pull up outside and the guards were to place the bags into the back of the minivan and not approach the driver or they’d blow everything.

After watching the guards walk past from a discrete location, Geralt left the casino floor to change his clothes. Still on the phone to Istredd, Geralt told him that once he knew his men were safe and the money was secure, the money still left in the vault would be safe. Outside the minivan pulled away, followed by cars full of Istredd’s security.

The members of the crew who had been waiting upstairs were no longer upstairs. A SWAT van pulled up outside, containing five people dressed in black. 

Istredd started to threaten Geralt again, but Geralt didn’t hear it, he’d left the phone on a table. He was dressed in all black, his face covered by a black helmet. 

The minivan drove towards a small airport on the outskirts of the city and stopped on the runway. 

The SWAT team, now a team of six, used ropes to lower themselves down the elevator shaft and into the vault. Their leader radioed up to Istredd to cut the vault's power. Istredd readily complied. 

In the security control Istredd listened as the SWAT team leader continued to talk to him, he did not make any kind of link between the voice of the SWAT leader and the voice of the man who was robbing him. 

The SWAT leader talked Istredd through entering the room outside of the vault, finding the two unconscious guards and entering the vault. All the while though, the SWAT team, which now had nine members, piled a hundred and sixty million dollars into the black bags. Once the money was safely stored and the team were all in the elevator shaft for cover, their leader threw an incendiary device into the vault and watched it blow. The leader asked for lights up and then they pretended to storm the vault they’d just emptied. 

At the airport at the edge of the city, Nenneke and Lambert sat in a car tucked away discretely behind some helicopters. They watched as Istredd’s guards stopped on the tarmac, circling around the van.

Istredd entered the vault, the SWAT leader explained from behind his helmet, that the had thieves detonated an incendiary device. Istredd kicked them out of the vault and the team left without protest, it was his vault after all. The nine members of the SWAT team carried a black bag each. 

The men at the airport got out of their cars and advanced on the van. Lambert pressed a detonater and the van exploded. Flyers for a nearby strip club fluttered down onto the tarmac. One of the guards reported this back to Istredd. 

Istredd looked around his now empty vault, his attention on the intricate inscription of Bellagio on the vault floor. The addition was new, added only the week prior. With dawning horror, he realised that the footage he’d been watching in the security centre did not contain the inscription. He realised that someone had duplicated his vault, realised what he’d been watching hadn’t actually happened. Istredd saw red.

The SWAT team, now a team of eight, walked out of the front doors of the Bellagio. Their leader carried two black bags. They climbed back into their van and drove away. In the van Geralt took off his helmet and hugged his daughter.

Jaskier ducked into a men’s bathroom on the casino floor and changed back into his suit. He used the toilet cistern for balance as he climbed back into the vents and swiftly made his way back to the windowless, cameraless room Istredd was keeping him in. 

Istredd walked very quickly towards the windowless, cameraless room.

Sabrina called Yennefer, who was pacing in the suite she shared with Istredd and told her to change to channel eighty-eight.

-oOo-

**Fight Night, 8:35PM**

Jaskier was letting Bruiser throw him about. If Istredd took much longer he was going to end up with a black eye. Finally though, finally Istredd strode in, looking so livid Jaskier was surprised steam wasn’t coming out of his ears. There was a vein pulsing on his forehead, his face was tinged red and his eyes looked unhinged. Jaskier tried not to smile. The goons he’d had tailing Jaskier earlier in the evening followed Istredd inside and held Jaskier in between them. Bruiser sat down in a chair in the corner of the room.

“Where’s my money?” he snarled, punching Jaskier in the stomach. It wasn’t a particularly good punch, Jaskier was not impressed, it barely made him hunch over. 

“You know you really shouldn’t tuck your thumb into your fist when you hit people. That’s only gonna get you a broken thumb,” he shrugged, hoping the unsolicited advice would only wind Istredd up more.

“Where’s my money?!” Istredd shouted this time, almost spitting with how angry he was. Jaskier though the man would have a heart attack if he wasn’t careful. 

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jaskier answered.

“You mean you weren’t part of some scheme to empty my vault tonight?” 

“You’ve had your vault emptied? How unfortunate, but I promise I’ve been here all night making myself intimately familiar with the various walls and furnishings in this room thanks to your pal over there,” he nodded his head to Bruiser in the corner. “I’d say check your camera footage but there are none in here so… Can I go?” 

“Escort Mr. Pankratz to the main doors and hold him there,” Istredd told the goons before looking Jaskier directly in the eyes. The man looked utterly feral, it was hard not to smirk. “I’m going to phone the police, you’re in violation of your parole.”

“You caught me,” Jaskier said, finally letting himself smirk.

Jaskier didn’t let the men drag him from the room, he pulled his arms from their grasp to walk with his head held high, leading them. Thankfully no one questioned why he knew his way out, but he almost wanted them too. He knew Istredd was watching him, could feel the man’s eyes burning into his back as he talked to a nine-one-one operator. He was using his cell phone, something Sabrina couldn’t intercept. 

Jaskier was halfway down the corridor when Istredd hung up, time for his final play. Jaskier looked up at the nearest camera and hoped that Sabrina had one her thing and played the camera feed on Yennefer’s television screen. 

He stopped and turned back to Istredd. “What would you do if I said I could get you your money back?” he asked. 

Istredd tilted his head to the side and stalked towards him. The tilt was not endearing the way it was when Geralt tilted his head, in fact it made the man look even more manic. “You could get my money back?”

Making his voice sound contemplative to not give away how calculated he was being, Jaskier added, “But you’d have to give up Yennefer. Would you? Give her up to get your money back?”

“Yes,” Instead answered, and his answer was immediate, no thought went into it. The man would do anything to refill that casino vault at the expense of everyone around him. Jaskier knew he could be cold and calculating but not like that, not towards a person he claimed to love and respect. 

“Well I know a guy, I’ll get him to put the word out, and if anything pops up he’ll be in touch with you,” Jaskier smiled, closed-lipped, small, even though he wanted to grin from ear to ear. If Yennefer had seen that, he and Geralt might just be in for a chance. 

“You know a guy?” Istredd sneered, punching him in the stomach again, he was still tucking his thumb. “Get him out of my sight!” Jaskier was grabbed and turned roughly before being shoved forward into a walk. He went willingly to the casino doors. 

Jaskier was not surprised that Istredd had phoned in his parole violation, there was only so much a man could take after all, but he still was not looking forward to going back to prison. There was nothing he could really do about it though, and after five years in the joint he supposed he could hack a little longer, especially since now he’d have Geralt and Ciri waiting for him when he got out, and maybe Yennefer if he was really lucky. 

The goons handed him over to the cops, who cuffed him and led him down the street to their waiting patrol car. One of the cops was just opening the back door when the sound of someone running in heels caught his attention. 

“Wait!” Yennefer called ahead of her, “Wait! That’s my- that’s my husband! Julian!” 

She’d chosen him, chosen them because she wanted too, he had her back. Relief flooded through him and his heart soared as Jaskier strained against the hold of the officer and turned to beam at her. She came to a halt in front of him and didn’t seem to know what to do with herself once she was faced with him. “Hey, Yenna,” he murmured.

“How long until you get back out?” she asked, reaching out and gripping his jacket collar with both hands, glaring at the cop when they tried to push her back. “Give me a minute!” she snarled at them, it made him smile even wider, seeing that blazing anger directed at someone else in his defence. 

“Three to six months,” he shrugged. “Geralt should be over by the fountain.” Jaskier nodded his head in the direction of the attraction.

“Okay,” she breathed before going onto her toes and closing the gap between them to press a sweet and fleeting kiss to his lips. He found himself chasing after her lips, wanting more.

Yennefer let go of him when the officer asked this time and stepped back to let them handle him into the back of the cruiser. “We have a daughter now,” he told her, wanting her to know before they closed the door on him. “She’s called Ciri and she’s a little firecracker. You’re gonna love her, Yenna, and teach her so much.” 

The officer closed the door before Yennefer could reply with words, but she didn’t need to, Jaskier could see it written out all over her face. The hope, the happiness, a little bit of fear, everything was laid out for him to see, still able to read her just as easily as he used to. The car started and he craned his neck to watch her for as long as possible. Just as she was slipping from his sight, he saw her raise her hands to wipe at her face. He could only hope they were from happiness.

-oOo-

**Fight Night, 8:55PM**

Geralt was watching the fountain display, Ciri was tucked under one of his arms, and his other was pressed up against his father. Eskel and Lambert were on their father’s other side. Nenneke stood in front of his father and was wrapped in his father's arms. Seeing them together made him glad. The rest of the crew were ranged around them. They’d done it, he only wished Jaskier was here to celebrate it with them.

Geralt knew in his bones that Istredd had reported Jaskier’s parole violation. Jaskier had said to give him until nine but they’d both known that was an overestimate. So Geralt stood, surrounded by his family and ached for his lover but it was mixed with sheer joy and relief. They’d robbed a Vegas casino, something that was supposed to be impossible. 

“Geralt.”

He turned at the sound of his name and his eyes fell on Yennefer. Shock coursed through him at the sight of her. Everything about her was the same as it had been when he’d seen her less than an hour previous, but everything was different too. Her face was open, unguarded, and she was looking between him and Ciri with hesitant hope in her eyes. She’d come back, come back to them. This was Jaskier’s doing, he didn’t know how but he didn’t care. 

Geralt let his arm slip away from Ciri’s shoulders and crossed the distance between them in a few long strides, cupped her face with gentle hands and kissed her. 

Behind him he heard Ciri snicker, “Gross.” and his father’s low laughter. Eskel and Lambert, for all they’d make fun of him and Jaskier, knew better than to whistle and tease him and Yennefer. Geralt pulled back with a happy laugh and wrapped his arms around Yennefer’s waist, lifting her from the ground, holding her up high enough so she could look down at him. 

“Hello, my wolf,” she murmured, gently running her fingers over his face, smiling softly. The sound of her old endearment for him made a wave warmth crash through him. He hummed at her, letting his eyes flutter closed at the tender touches. “Julian said we-,” she swallowed thickly and then started again, “Julian said we have a daughter now.”

He opened his eyes and let his mouth pull into a grin, “We do,” he told her, lightly setting her back down to the ground. Geralt took her small hand in his and led her back over to the crew and held his hand out to Ciri. She took it with a smile. “Yennefer,” he said, “this is Cirilla, Ciri.” 

“It’s lovely to meet you, Cirilla,” Yennefer breathed, looking completely overwhelmed but her wide smile giving away her happiness. 

Ciri, never shy a day in all of the time Geralt had known her, blushed and mumbled, “It’s nice to meet you too.” Then she surged forwards, wrapped her arms around Yennefer’s waist and clung to her, shoving her face into Yennefer’s neck. Yennefer looked momentarily taken aback before she hesitantly wrapped her arms around Ciri and rested her cheek on the top of her head. Geralt definitely did not sniff as he wrapped his own arms around both of them and held them close, marvelling at Ciri’s ability to love and accept new people despite her rocky start in life. All his daughter ever really wanted was to be loved, and she had that in spades now, between himself, Jaskier, Yennefer and their family she’d never feel unloved ever again. 

Over the top of Yennefer’s head he could see his father smiling at him and his brothers giving him a thumbs up. 

He had Yennefer back. He had Ciri. His father had found a partner, a companion for the rest of his days. Geralt had noticed Triss and Eskel holding hands. Lambert was perfectly happy by himself. They were all rich. Now he just had to wait until Jaskier was free and then everything would be perfect.

-oOo-

**Six Months Later**

When Jaskier left prison this time, there was snow on the ground. The air was cold and crisp and caught in his lungs, his breath puffed out in front of him in a cloud of steam. He liked it, it was very life affirming. It had been a long six months, but Geralt, Ciri _and_ Yennefer visited him this time around, which made everything so much easier. 

He spotted Roach and started towards her. When he was halfway across the lot towards the car Ciri bounced out of the back and started towards him. She slipped on some ice just as she reached him. Jaskier dived forward to catch her before she fell. “Careful, kiddo,” he smiled, wrapping her in a hug. “Shouldn’t you be in school?” It was definitely a school day.

“Dad let me play hooky for the afternoon, special occasion and all,” she shrugged before releasing him. “Mom’s been unbearable the last few days, super nervous. Dad kept telling her she had nothing to be nervous about but…”

“Mom?”

“Yeah, Pops, why not? Been testing it out,” Ciri winked at him as they walked towards the car. 

Yennefer and Geralt had gotten out and both were waiting for him. Geralt’s hair was still quite short but he’d finally grown out the brown. As always Yennefer was a vision in black and white. 

“Over twenty five million in our joint account and you’re still driving Roach,” Jaskier snorted as he stopped in front of the two of them. Ciri had mentioned Yennefer being nervous but Jaskier found himself suddenly floored by a wave of anxiety when faced with both of them together for the first time in almost six years. Ciri slipped back into the car, letting them have a moment, she was a good kid. 

“Hi,” he said, scuffing the toe of his shoe against the ground.

Geralt kissed him first, mouth soft and gentle as he wrapped his arms around Jaskier’s waist and Jaskier went willingly into the embrace. He relished in way his head was tilted back, palms pressed into Geralt’s chest as he let himself fly away with the sensation, with the tenderness Geralt was showing him. All too soon, Geralt was pulling back but it was only to push him into Yennefer’s awaiting arms while keeping a hand on the back of Jaskier’s neck. Yennefer kissed him hot and hard, pushing her tongue into his mouth as she backed him up against the car, he let his hands fall to her waist and held on for dear life. She slipped her hands up under his shirt and clutched at his waist, nails digging in just shy of painful. 

He’d missed them both so much, missed having both of them like this so much. They were all together again now though, with the addition of Ciri and they were set up for life. Jaskier broke the kiss and rested his forehead to Yennefer’s and took a minute to breath and savour the moment. Geralt leaned in and Jaskier and Yennefer shifted slightly so the three of them could stand together, foreheads touching as they breathed the same air. Something inside of Jaskier that had been dislodged for a very long time slipped back into place. 

There was a prolonged squeak behind them as Ciri rolled down the back window, “You guys are so gross.”

“Oh yeah, like I didn’t walk in on you kissing Dara the other day,” Yennefer snorted, turning her head so Ciri could see her raised eyebrows. 

“Gymnastics Dara?” Jaskier squawked, also turning to look at his daughter. “Since when? You didn’t mention it on your last visit!” He clutched at his heart, feigning being terribly hurt.

“It all happened like last week,” she said, waving her hand at him. “Come and sit in the back and I’ll tell you about it.”

“He’s nice,” Geralt murmured, pressing a kiss to both Jaskier’s and Yennefer’s temples before letting go of them and getting in behind the wheel. 

“Well, that’s incredibly high praise,” Jaskier said, eyebrows climbing so high up his forehead he was sure they had disappeared into his hairline.

“He is nice,” Yennefer agreed, “he’s been around for dinner a few times.” She prodded him out of the way and then slipped inside of Roach and with nothing left to it Jaskier joined them all inside of the car.

“Can we go get a Burger King?” he asked as he closed the door behind him.

“Burger King! Burger King! Burger King!” Ciri started to chant next to him, starting quiet and getting progressively louder.

“We have food at home,” Geralt said as he turned the key in the ignition.

“Burger King! Burger King! Burger King!” 

“Of course you’re the person who says ‘we have food at home’” he sneered, incredibly unimpressed with Geralt.

“Burger King! Burger King! Burger King!” 

“Let’s go round the drive through,” Yennefer suggested, “You can order two coffees for us, Geralt, and nothing else.”

“That’s just cruel, Yenna, cruel and unusual.” Jaskier said over Ciri’s indignant squawk at her mother’s suggestion. 

“Even for you, love, that was a bit much,” Geralt nodded but Yennefer only laughed at all of them. “I suppose since you asked so nicely and it is a special occasion…” Geralt sighed as he pulled out of the lot. 

Jaskier and Ciri cheered, Yennefer rolled her eyes and Geralt looked like he wished he was anywhere but inside of the car with all of them. Jaskier knew that was for show though, Geralt loved it really, as did Yennefer, loved this slice of family they’d carved out for themselves. It hadn’t been easy, and it would likely continue not being easy as the four of them settled into living together, but they’d make it work because they’d chosen each other and that made all of the difference.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this and that I've managed to write it in a way that is easy to follow. I did not realise how much went on in this film when I started writing this. I had to watch it three times, the third time doing almost a play by play of the actual heist. One day I may be able to watch it again. 
> 
> So, yeah, thank you for reading! Comments and kudos make me do a happy dance so please feel free to make me dance <3
> 
> [My tumblr for anyone who likes Witcher spam and shitposts](lutes-and-dandelions.tumblr.com)


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